my tired mother's day wishlist

Since my birthday and Mother's Day are so close together, around this time each year I get a lot of questions from family needing gift ideas... 

Truth is, I don't actually need anything other than clothes that fit...because if I'm being brutally honest, I've been squishing myself into my pre-baby clothes since 2016, and what doesn't already have holes, will soon. No shame, I still wear all of it. 

But more than that, I've been thinking about things that I really want this year...like really want. More than clothes, more than make-up [since I'm out and it's not budgeted for this paycheck], more than an overpriced mani-pedi that will be ruined in 3 days from the duties of motherhood, more than a massage...wait, I take that back. Throw that one in. 

Below is my Tired Mother's Day Wishlist:

1. I'd like for Mother's Day to be declared Opposite Day. We are in what seems to be a never-ending "mommy do's it" phase. "Mommy read it. Mommy get it. Mommy rock. Mommy sit. Mommy go. Mommy come. Mommy, Mom, Mama, Ma, MOMMY, MOM, MOM." If Mother's Day were Opposite Day, Daddy do's it all. 
2. I'd like to take a break from the Keely Carpool for one day, and drive home in silence. I love carpooling with the hubs, don't get me wrong. It's time and cost efficient and who doesn't love that? But... when hubs drives, Mommy tends to just about er'thing else in Toddler World. "Raisins, BootSnacks [aka, Fruit Snacks], elmoooo....book, pictures, WHOLE WORLD, music," + a whole lot of jibberish that even she doesn't understand = a whole lot of noisy chaos. I would like to drive home, at a relaxing 30mph, in complete solitude and silence. 
3. If I can't have number two, I'll settle for a full day without our NPT [No Papi Tantrum] Playlist blaring in my car, house, and brain:
1. He's Got the Whole World in His Hands
2. The Alphabet Song
3. Baby Bumblebee [DEAR LORD who wrote this song?!]
4. Skinny Marinky Dinky Dink
4. An untimed, unscheduled, uninterrupted nap. Every mom is scratching her head right now, "what is that?" Oh, wait...I almost forgot... without the baby monitor.
5. If all of the above is just too unrealistic, I would settle for dinner and a movie for ONE. Yes, one. I love my husband, but we can do date night on our anniversary or any other day. Often times, we end up reminding ourselves of things we need to do or not forget. I need to snooze the reminders/forget the checklist for about 3 hours. Honestly, no conversation with anyone, period, would be glorious. Does that make me terrible? It's just one time..
6. A full cup of HOT coffee....Disclosure: heating it up 2-3 times over an hour does not count.
7. Last, but of course, not least, being stingy with my dinner. I would love to be the only one eating what I have ordered myself for one day. I love Reavey's little fingers, but not on my plate or smushed into my mac and cheese. 

To all you husbands, you're welcome. To mine, any of the above will do. But subtlety out the window, #1 would be the real MVP of Mother's Day gifts. 

 

Happy Early Mother's Day to all you tired mamas!

29+1

Adulting. This is happening. Ready...or not.

I turn 29 [again] tomorrow, as if the sound of the number [29+1] isn't explanation enough of why this growing older thing can kiss my big toe. I've never been one to dread birthdays. I was always a "looking forward to the next big thing" kinda gal. Well this is big, I suppose.

• First, there was 5....a whole hand old. Big school, big deal to a kid.
• Then there was 10.....two hands. I might as well be driving.
• Then 13....."Officially a teenager." I’m practically an adult. God bless my parents.
• Then 16.....Driving... My first taste of independence. Dear...Lord.
• 18.....the ability to vote (my knowledge of politics at this age was summed up by the movie Legally Blonde...) + legal independence & the ability to buy tobacco [yay lungs]
• 21...The ultimate birthday! Or so thought my 21-year-old arrogant, prideful, don't tread on me, self.

                                                                     "Ha. [smug face] You'd like to see my ID? ba-

                                                                     BAM! I'm 21. Go ahead, ask me my birthday." 

                                                                     [extreme eye roll]. 

However, it was like I blinked and the thrill and excitement of turning 21 that I had so long anticipated was over. Well that was fun [sarcasm]. Ok, continue.

• 25...Insurance goes down [all the praise hands!]

                                                                      Bill Engvall fans: here's your sign.
                                                                   
And now....

• 30...there I said it.... Hm...the year for...eh...someone help me out, 

                                                                      here.

Not really sure what milestone this marks other than documenting an excuse on paper for my bones to ache and joints to crack when I move from sit to stand. Or sit to sit back. Whichever.

• I’m THREE flashes of both hands. That just takes too long. Or six whole hands of old. Nope...
• I have now been driving for 1/2 of my lifetime. And most of the time, now, I'd actually prefer to ride/be driven. Most days I’m a passenger in the Keely Carpool to work [perks of working with your hubs] and I love it. I get an extra 15 minutes of sleep on the way to daycare every day. It’s a sweet deal for a tired mama.
• Politics. Sorry, Elle Woods. I'm learning there's more to it than pink skirt suits. I am eager to vote because I actually have an opinion, not just because the law says I can. I read policy, I watch debates, I think for myself, for my family. 
• Cigarette smoke now makes me vomit and I can have conversation after conversation about why taxes need to be higher on tobacco products.
• Insurance premiums begin to go back up...because I'm no spring chicken anymore and I've got a health history [or five] to disclose.
• And my favorite: "Hey hey hey...don't you need to see my ID...to make sure I'm of age to order this glass of wine?" Bless the waitress that cards someone else at my table and not me. No tip for you! (Joking...calm down fellow servers)

In all actuality, though the sound of the number has me all in a tizzy, I am super thankful for who I am going into my third decade versus who I was going into my second. I was a child of trend. Whatever was cool, whatever was "in," whatever it took to gain the approval, acceptance, attention of others. Yikes. 

In the past decade I have let so much of that worthlessness go. Some intentionally, some unintentionally. And as a result, I have found much the opposite of my preconceived notions of getting older to be true. As a twenty-something I craved independence. I made a ton of mistakes, most of which I couldn't own because of hella-pride. I wanted to do it all on my own, but the minute I messed up, heyyyy, not my fault. I idolized sin and placed my confidence in people/things that did indeed disappoint me.  Over the course of the past few years, the more independence I've gained, the more I've realized how dependent I am on my Creator. The more responsibility entrusted to me, the more I see just how inadequate I am without His guidance and grace. 

Somewhere in the last ten years I crossed to the other side... to the side of agreeing that mom and dad were actually right [how do those words taste?!] They weren't ruining my life, they were teaching and protecting me. They "weren't so-and-so's parents"[a comment that was used often in our house and drove me nuts]. They did know best. It was their lack of trust in other people - not their lack of trust in me. They weren't as "out of touch" as I had thought. It all makes sense as I go into this next decade, now a mother myself. 

I was talking with some friends at church this past Sunday about my struggle with turning 30, and how I was refusing to acknowledge my birthday this week. They spoke a little truth into me that is changing my perspective. They said that their 30s has been a season of contentment. That's a beautiful thing for someone who constantly found satisfaction in 'more.' Last year, we decided to focus our energy on "less." Less house, less stuff, less money, less self-consumption. It's been a great segway into this new decade. We have come to place less value in our paychecks, the size of our home, what's in our closet, what taunts us from the shelves of Target (which is my biggest struggle to date). 

I by no means have things figured out. Let's be real, most days I'm still a mess. I still want my farmhouse, acreage, a basketball team family with 5+ kids, chickens, goats and every rug and pillow that I pass at Target. But I am incredibly grateful for the growth that has taken place in the last ten years. So with that in mind, I say bring on 30. Gravity may be playing jokes, my hair may be re-considering its position, my hormones may be spiteful, my metabolism may be peacing out...or laughing...I can't figure her out, and my face may now be welcoming in too many friends that go by the name of 'wrinkles,' but my soul is finding nourishment in the amazing things God intended for us to enjoy here. And that's reason enough to celebrate. Here's to 30! And probiotics...gotta get on that...

#twomuch: intro

Two. Ready or not, we're here. We've arrived. People warn you, but no one can truly prepare you. I preface with this: I absolutely love being a mama, more specifically for my current season, a mama of a toddler. It is so incredibly sweet and fun. 

But I'd be lying if I said I don't remind myself every day that "this too shall pass." And I don't mean in a "soak it up, you're gonna miss this" kinda way. I mean, "just keep going, you can do it, don't lose your...." kinda way. I eventually come around to know I will indeed miss this one day...but the reality is it's exhausting, eye-twitchingly frustrating at times, and hard. Very hard. I second guess everything I say and even more so everything I do. I hear my same words repeated back to me, jabbing me where it hurts. It ultimately makes me feel guilty, even though I know discipline is necessary to raise her to be a decent human. 

Ever wonder how you're doing at this parenting thing? Wait until your toddler finds interest in pretend play. That's been insightful. The way she talks to her babies, to her stuffed animals, to the imaginary dinner guests she's cooking for...

I hear her 'discipline' her baby dolls, "NO MAYUM", putting them in timeout, giving them spankings, telling them to "hush" and "hurry UP!" "Don't do that...ugh!" Wait, where did you learn that? Oh...

I hear her little attitude in how she speaks to Mia, to Elmo, to us, to her teachers... How do you explain to a toddler the concept of authority? Especially when I'm still learning how to come under authority myself. "You can't spank mommy or put mommy in time out for not singing the A,B,C song while she was on the phone after you asked her to three times. But mommy can put Reaves in timeout for throwing and not cleaning up her toys after being asked three times. Hm. How do you communicate the difference between those two things? I'm genuinely asking. Establishing authority versus leading her by example without unknowingly putting ourselves under their authority. If you're not careful, it's easy to comply with all of their demands. I find myself just wanting to avoid an irrational tantrum. Amiright?

But then I hear her say her prayers. Insert all of the bawling hysterically emjois here .She has just started praying her own prayers... talking to Jesus about the people in her life. [Don't get me wrong. She often throws in prayers for a paci, people's beards (your guess is as good as mine), her blanket, lions, grapes, the color purple...] There is no shame or shyness about praying out loud or not making sense, something all of us adults tend to feel embarrassed about, self-included. Just talking, resting, finding calmness and peace. 

I hear her "i love you"s, the "i kiss it"s, the "i help you"s. I watch her carefully tuck her babies into bed, reassure them they are safe, affirm them that she's going to take care of them. I watch her share, I watch her show concern, I watch her bond with others. I witness her gentleness with younger kiddos and her confidence with older ones. I watch her explore, learn, problem-solve, serve us by helping with daily tasks. Maybe I'm not totally screwing her up. Her free spirit is so contagious. She loves to have fun, to dance, to sing, to act silly. Many times I wish I could be just like her. She's so much cooler than me. 

These moments make the tantrums and the challenges worth it. I saw a motherhood meme one time that said "I never knew how much I could ruin someone's day by asking them to put their pants on...until I had a toddler" Yaaas. Whew. I'm not the only one. In a nut shell.


We have begun to refer to this year as #twomuch, for reasons such as putting on pants.

That's what we're learning "two" is, too much! Too much sass, too much attitude, too much confusion, too much fun, too much crying, too much laughing, too much learning, too much hugging, too much screaming, too much dancing, too much exploring, occasionally too much to handle. Too much everything...great and challenging. I love being a toddler mama, it is the greatest challenge. 

I've decided to do a little blog breakout series this year as a way to document the humor I have to find in the #twomuch season. I want to remember even the most challenging of moments...and for goodness sakes, we have to laugh, or all we will do is cry. I plan to randomly post moments where toddlerhood in our house is just #twomuch. Whether it be too much fun, or too much to handle. Fellow mamas, feel free to join me by sharing your #twomuch moments, as well. I love knowing [err..hoping?] I'm not the only toddler mama out there trying to find humor in moments that might otherwise bring us to our knees in defeat. This should be fun. 

I'll go first.

Because it's Monday, but hey, I get it, it's #twomuch for me, too.

 #twomuch sass.